


Sometimes a Family Is

by minyardmonster



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Abuse, Cat adoption, Exy exists but they dont play it, Kidfic, Kidnapping, M/M, Neil is still on the run from the mafia but things are altered for the sake of fiction, Well - Freeform, andrew is a lawyer, canon compliant trauma and discussions of it, heavy handed on the kidfic and loose with the andriel, i dont know how to end things im sorry, im bad at dialogue, ive never really liked kidfics so imagine my surprise when i wrote over 10k for it, like two years pass during this, look this is just 30 pages of self indulgence idk what to tell you, neil is an art teacher, no beta not even for 10k aight kids i cant read my own work lmao, renee is dead, the twinyards get along, theyre probably all ooc but whatever, you get self gratification i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:34:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27099721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minyardmonster/pseuds/minyardmonster
Summary: Andrew isn’t really sure how he ended up in this situation, two seven year old girls in the backseat of his Maserati, tears in their eyes and duffle bags at their feet. Years ago, after he’d finished up at Palmetto Renee had come to him asking him to be her doner. He hadn’t understood why she’d wanted to start a family so desperately, but she was his best friend, and it wasn’t like jerking off into a plastic cup was particularly challenging. But then she’d gone and gotten herself killed, hadn’t she, died in some tragic car crash and with her own Mother two years in the ground left the twins alone with no family to call their own.Other than Andrew, of course.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 10
Kudos: 216





	Sometimes a Family Is

Andrew isn’t really sure how he ended up in this situation, two seven year old girls in the backseat of his Maserati, tears in their eyes and duffle bags at their feet. Years ago, after he’d finished up at Palmetto Renee had come to him asking him to be her doner. He hadn’t understood why she’d wanted to start a family so desperately, but she was his best friend, and it wasn’t like jerking off into a plastic cup was particularly challenging. But then she’d gone and gotten herself killed, hadn’t she, died in some tragic car crash and with her own Mother two years in the ground left the twins alone with no family to call their own. 

Other than Andrew, of course. 

He’d driven across three states to the funeral, sat in a stiff suit while a case worker introduced him to Olivia and Isabella. He knew who they were, obviously, having kept in touch with Renee, but he’d never had the time to meet them officially before now. They looked so small, huddled into each other and dressed in matching black dresses. Olivia had met his stare with a raised chin when he crouched down to their height, and stood between him and a crying Isabella like a furious little guardian. There had never been any question on if he’d adopt them or not, but seeing that protective glint in the kid’s eye had really sealed it for him. He’d do this for Renee, for the girls.

A week later, when everything was finalised and the girl’s things were packed and on their way to Andrew’s apartment, the three of them loaded into the car and headed back to South Carolina. Outside of letting the DA at his law firm know he would be absent from work for a few days, he hadn’t even told anyone he was a dad now, if he even had any right to take on that title. He’d call Bee soon as he got a chance, he reasoned with himself, and then maybe Aaron. Aaron had a little village of his own, and Andrew could begrudgingly admit his twin could probably offer him with some useful insight. 

“Bella needs to pee.” Olivia spoke up from the backseat. A glance in the rearview mirror showed Isabella sitting with her hands shoved between her thighs, squirming in her seat, and another glance at the road showed there was absolutely nowhere to stop.

“Can Bella hold it for another half an hour?” Andrew knew it was pointless to ask, but still he watched as Olivia whispered in Isabella’s ear and received a whisper in return.

“She says no.” 

Sighing, Andrew flipped on his indicator and pulled into the emergency lane and waited for Isabella to get out of the car. When she made no move to do so he turned in his seat to face her and gestured towards the door. “Well?”

Isabella shifted in her seat, and for the first time all week spoke to Andrew directly. “I need your help, I can’t hold my dress up by myself.”

Well, that wasn’t really logic Andrew could argue with so he popped the locks and got out the car, coming around and letting Isabella out on the other side. He opened both the backseat and passenger side door open and averted his eyes as he bent down to crouch behind Bella, keeping her dress bunched up and safe. It was maybe the most awkward moment of his life, but eventually Isabella was back in the car and buckled in. Olivia confirmed that she would be fine until they got back to his apartment, and they were back on the road.

-

It wasn’t until the three of them had shuffled into Andrew’s apartment that he realised the first real hurtle. Andrew lived in what was an admittedly spacious, but single bedroom apartment. As Andrew prepared dinner (two shitty plates of burnt grilled cheese) and prepped his bed for the girls (read; made sure everything incriminating in his bedside drawers were away in his wardrobe where prying hands couldn’t find them), he resigned himself to sleeping on the couch for the next few weeks while he tried to find a way out of his lease and into a bigger apartment. He was curled up on his couch, a thin blanket draped over his legs when he was struck with a sudden idea. Maybe he wouldn’t  _ have  _ to get a bigger apartment, there was every chance there was an empty house already awaiting the three of them.

In hindsight, Andrew probably should have checked the time in Germany before he FaceTimed Nicky, but he hadn’t expected him to pick up looking so disheveled and worried. Andrew watched him slip out of what Andrew assumed was his and Erik’s bedroom and into his front room, flicking on a lamp.

“Hey, Andrew.” His voice was slurred with sleep, and he was rubbing at his eyes almost aggressively in an attempt to wake himself up. “Are you okay?”

Andrew did his best to fight an eyeroll. “Why would I not be?”

“You never call me first, Andrew.” Nicky’s face softened. “And Renee-”

Andrew held his hand up, the universal gesture for ‘please stop talking’ and Nicky immediately shut up. They stayed like that for several long minutes, just staring at each other in silence. Over the years Nicky had learnt the best way to get Andrew to talk was to wait him out, you’d never get anywhere with prodding questions or insistent questions; Andrew had to come to you first, he just didn’t always know how too. For the most part he was tossing up between telling Nicky about the twins, or just simply asking about the house in columbia. He knew that his cousin wouldn’t push for answers to the strange question, but Andrew had also been trying to be more honest these days. 

“Did you ever end up selling the house in Columbia?” 

“Uh, no? It’s still in my name, I think Aaron and Katelyn take the kids there sometimes, I know he has the keys, at the very least.”

Andrew hummed in response. He’d been hoping to put off calling his brother a little longer, but the girls couldn’t keep sharing his bed, and even at 5” he wasn’t going to fit comfortably using his couch as a bed.

“Andrew you’re not...Right? You’d tell us, if it was-” Andrew all but blanched at Nicky’s concern, and his gut curled uncomfortably at what he was insinuating. He spared a glance down at the raised skin of wrists and back at Nicky. He wouldn’t lie and say he hadn’t thought about it again, after hearing about Renee, but then there were the twins, and, well.

“It’s not like that. I’ve just,” He huffed out a breath, guestering vaguely with his hands. “I’ve recently become a father to two little girls. Renee’s kids. I was their only next of kin and I wasn’t about to let them enter the system.”

Nicky gave him a look Andrew had a hard time interpreting but it quickly passed and was replaced with a soft smile. “Give Aaron a call, I’m sure he’ll be happy to help the three of you move, too.”

Not long after Andrew hung up Olivia came shuffling out of her room, hands rubbing tears from her eyes.

“I had a nightmare.” Her voice was stiff, and it was clear she wasn’t particularly happy about having to seek Andrew out, but was desperate for comfort. Andrew could resonate. Wordlessly he gave the spot on the couch next to him a soft pat, watching as she scurried over to his side. 

The first thing he’d noticed when meeting the girls was how much like Renee they looked. Olivia had big brown eyes, just like Renee had, and also shared the freckles that littered across her face. They had her nose, and the same soft curve of her jaw. Honestly, you could question Andrew’s involvement in their creation at all, the only similarity being their blonde hair and pale skin. Olivia sat herself across from him on the couch, stretching out her little leg to kick Andrew’s own. Neither he or Renee had ever been very tall, and silently Andrew hoped the girls never surpassed him in height. 

“Do you think Mum’s happy?” When Andrew didn’t answer, Olivia curled further into herself, twisting her fingers in what was an obvious nervous habit. “Up in heaven. With God.”

Well, okay.

“I don’t know, kid.” Were you meant to be honest with kids about these things? Andrew and Renee never discussed her faith, happy to agree to disagree on the subject, but obviously she would have raised the twins inside the church. Andrew felt his stomach twist uncomfortably in knots. He didn’t want to lie, but he wasn’t sure what he considered to be the truth was the right thing to say, either. “If it makes you feel better to think she is.”

Olivia made a face at him. Andrew was just glad she didn’t look like she was going to keep crying, he didn’t think he was well enough equipped to deal with that. “I think she’d be happy knowing you were safe and doing well. Regardless of where she is now.”

Olivia seemed to accept that answer, stretching out the rest of her body. “Can I sleep out here with you? Bella kicks.”

After a few minutes of rearranging Andrew managed to get Olivia snug against his chest, her back pressed firmly against him. He was surprised to find that having her so close didn’t make him tense, and he was even more surprised to find that she’d  _ wanted  _ to be this close to him. That she drew comfort from his presence.

“Goodnight Andrew.”

“Goodnight kid.”

-

Aaron hadn’t been able to help him move, in the end. There was simply not enough time between his and Katelyn’s shifts at the hospital and their own brat’s extracurriculares. He’d promised to leave the keys somewhere accessible though, and had helped chip in with the moving van. They’d had to rough it for two weeks while Andrew had his law firm move him to their sister branch in Columbia, but in the end the only painful part of the moving process was the kink in Andrew’s neck from so many nights spent on the couch. Walking into the Columbia house after so many years was almost as bad as a kick to the balls, Andrew didn’t think he’d been inside since he’d finished his degree at Palmetto. It was clean, at least, Aaron and Katelyn having used it has a makeshift holiday house meant it was in fairly good condition.

Isabella dropped her bag on the floor and set off to explore the house, Olivia following closely behind. It was late in the afternoon, and frankly Andrew was exhausted. He’d been allowed to work from home the past few weeks, but he was expected back in the office by friday, and he honestly wasn’t sure he’d have it in him. He still had to finalise the girls transfer to the local elementary school, and he’d be meeting with their principal tomorrow. 

“ _ Woah!”  _ Came Isabella’s excited cry from one of the far off bedrooms. Not long after she was rounding the corner with alarming speed, all but crashing into Andrew when she reached him in the kitchen. “Do Olivia and I get a room  _ each?  _ With  _ Double beds?”  _

Andrew hadn’t seen the point in buying new beds, they’d eventually want their own space anyway. Besides, Olivia had mentioned Isabella being a restless sleeper, so she’d probably do well with a bigger bed and room to herself. 

“Sure. Just keep it clean.” Isabella was not deterred and squealed again in delight before racing back off to argue with her sister over who got which room. 

Andrew had been looking forward to sitting down and having a moment to himself after the constant back and forth of moving before he got a head start on unpacking but it was becoming increasingly more evident he was going to have to deal with the girls squabbling before it resulted into a full out brawl. For such small kids they threw heavy punches, Isabella had accidently given Olivia a fat lip last week over who got to eat the last icy pole. (Andrew had had it himself, in the end, after he’d googled how to appropriately discipline a kid for sweets related violence. (He hadn’t liked any of the results, and just told Isabella to watch where she was swinging next time.))

-

The first four months passed without a hitch. Andrew went back to work, and the girls seemed to be doing fine at school, and enjoyed their time at after school care when Andrew wasn’t able to pick them up on time. The easy dinners and easier conversation between the three of them had lulled him into a false sense of security, and had left him completely unprepared for the Great Bedroom Colour debacle of 2020. 

“Aaron I don’t know what to  _ do.”  _ Andrew hissed into his phone. Isabella had come out this morning in tears, crying about how she hated her bedroom. It was too pink, apparently, and she wanted to change it all to blue. Andrew hadn’t really considered it a wild request, and had suggested they go look at paints that weekend.

That had, apparently, been the wrong thing to say. Isabella had stomped her feet and screeched louder then Andrew thought was possible for a seven year old girl. “No it has to be  _ now!” _

And when Andrew had tried to explain that he had work and she had school, she’d just locked herself in her room, continuing to howl. (Andrew had a brief moment where he wished he hadn’t installed locks on the girl’s doors, but dismissed the feeling as soon as it came. He’d have killed for that kind of security growing up.) Olivia had looked incredibly bored with the whole ordeal while she sat on the couch, school bag in her lap and flicking through cartoons. 

Aaron laughed from the other side of the phone, no doubt taking joy in his twin’s distress. 

“Stop laughing, this is serious. I’m going to be late, I don’t fucking know what to do.”

“That’s a dollar in the swear jar, ‘drew.” Olivia piped up from where she was sitting on the couch, the little shit.

“For fucks sake.” 

“That’s another dollar.”

Andrew begrudgingly shoved two dollar notes into the jar that sat on their kitchen island. She gave him a thumbs up before returning to her cartoons. One of these days, Andrew was going to strangle that obnoxious sponge, and he was going to enjoy doing it.

From the phone Aaron said; “I know it’s not exactly your strong suit, but you need to talk to her. Call the law firm and tell them you’re not going to make it in today.” 

Andrew hated to admit it, but Aaron was right. The girls were already grossly late for school, and it was becoming increasingly clear he wasn’t going to win this one. How his brother handled  _ four  _ of his own little brats was beyond Andrew, he was at his threshold trying to wrangle two. 

He thanked his brother, hung up, and sent a quick call to his firm saying he had a family emergency and wouldn’t be in today. The DA had sounded annoyed but hadn’t said anything other than to thank him for letting them know. Isabella was still screaming in her room about the colour blue, and honestly, Andrew had to admire her lung capacity. He was briefly thankful they’d moved out of the apartment complex and underfoot neighbours weren’t an issue anymore. 

He tried knocking on the door, but all it got him in return was a firm kick from the other side of the door. He felt terrible, he just wanted her to  _ stop,  _ but she wouldn’t even tell him what was wrong. He’d only just started to get to know the girls, but he didn’t have enough under his belt to immediately know the root cause of this meltdown. “Bella, baby, I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

The screaming teeted off slowly into a manageable sniffinging, and after a few minutes Andrew heard the door unlock and Isabella was looking up at him from her doorway, standing in the small opening she’d made. Her eyes were red and tear swollen, the sight made Andrew’s chest clench uncomfortably.

“Blue was Mummy’s favourite colour.” Isabella’s bottom lip quivered as she spoke, like just thinking about Renee would bring her to tears again. “And I really,  _ really  _ miss her ‘drew.” 

Andrew was almost positive that the clenching feeling in his chest was his heart breaking. He was suddenly very aware that in terms of helping the twins grieve their mother, he’d done a pretty rough job. He barely spoke about Renee outside of his weekly therapy sessions, it hurt too much to talk about her in the past tense. There were days he couldn’t even look at Olivia and Isabella without being choked with grief. He’d been selfish, and now Isabella was paying the price. Slowly, he pulled her into a hug, and turned to look at Olivia, who was now watching them with calculating eyes.

He raised her eyebrows at her, a silent invitation, and she was quick to join him and her sister in their awkward embrace. After a moment Andrew pulled back, crouching down to the girls height, wiping away Isabella’s tear stains. “How about we go pick out some blue paint, and then we can go visit your mum.” He’d been avoiding taking them to see Renee’s grave but clearly it was time. “And maybe I can tell you about the time your Mum knocked me flat on my ass playing exy in college. Does that sound good?”

Isabella and Olivia both agreed, and another brief hug was exchanged. Andrew left Isabella to get changed and turned to Olivia, who was looking at him with an expecting expression.

“Yeah, yeah I know. A dollar in the swear jar.”

In the end, visiting Renee’s grave wasn’t all that hard. It thawed away the ice Andrew hadn’t even realised was growing over his heart. The weather had been good, so they’d layed down the picnic blanket Andrew had taken to keeping in his car in front of her gravestone. The girl’s spoke animatedly about school, and how math was boring but art was fun, and how Olivia thought it was funny that Andrew ate more sweets then they did, or how boring Andrew’s office was and how they hated spending saturday mornings there. They spoke as if Renee was right there with them, and maybe she was, for all Andrew knew.

He briefly wondered if he should be taking the girls to church like Renee no doubtly did, but they seemed to enjoy their easy routine of sleeping in until noon and laughing at Andrew as he made a valiant effort to cook that day. In the end he decided against it. He didn’t think Renee would want him to do anything that would make him uncomfortable, but if the girls brought it up he would make an effort to take them. 

Isabella turned to Andrew with bright eyes and a brighter smile. “Do you have anything you want to say to Mum, Andrew?”

He hummed in consideration. There were a lot of things he wanted to tell Renee. He wanted to tell her that within the last four months Olivia had gone up two shoe sizes, which seemed impossible, but his bank balance had taken the hit to prove it. Or that Isabella, who had only spoken through Olivia at first, had really come out of her shell as of late, and that while he appreciated her creativity he’d appreciate it whole lot more if it wasn’t in the form of red marker drawings on white walls. Maybe he could tell her he had no idea what he was doing, and that every second was a shot in the dark, that he was scared he would never be half of what she was. 

Instead, he said, “I miss you, Renee.”

The force of the following hug the girls gave him knocked him flat on his back, and, for what felt like the first time in years, made him laugh soft and slow. 

-

The girls didn’t get to meet the rest of the Minyard family until November, when everyone is getting together to celebrate Andrew and Aaron’s birthday. They’d decided to have dinner at Aaron’s, something about him wanting to show of the deck space he’d been building for the past three months (where he found the time, Andrew had no idea), and Nicky and Erik were flying down for the week too, both of them eager to meet the girls. 

The twins had been in Andrew’s care for coming up seven months now, and during that time Andrew prided himself in learning about the two of them. Unfortunately, one of the things he’d learnt and had to come to terms with, was that there was absolutely no way Andrew was going to be able to put the two of them into a car for a thirteen hour drive. Olivia got car sick and had a terrible habit of not mentioning it until she was throwing up into her hands, and Isabella hated being stuck in a car for long periods of time as a personal vendetta. This, unfortunately, meant they would be flying to Chicago.

It was some cruel joke from the universe that he’d have to board a plane on his birthday, Andrew was sure. The girls seemed excited though, having never been on a flight before, and their excitement meant they were too distracted to notice Andrew’s growing irritation. Andrew had packed a small bag of activities for the two of them, colouring books and small puzzles, hoping he could get them to sit down for the duration of the flight. Obviously, he had no such luck.

The girls basically tripped over themselves to look out the window once they were allowed to remove their belts, and Andrew envied their awe. 

“Andrew! Andrew, look! This is so cool!” Olivia in particular was very enthusiastic about how high up they were. Any other time, Andrew would have done his best to indulge that enthusiasm, as he very rarely saw it from Olivia, but he  _ really  _ did not want to look out that window. 

Uncurling his fingers from where they’d dug into his arm rests, Andrew reached for the bag of goodies between his feet. “Why don’t the two of you sit down? Maybe you guys can finish colouring in that giraffe?”

They did not want to colour in the giraffe, and it didn’t take long for them to grow restless. Olivia kept asking him to look out the windows, and Isabella couldn’t sit still to save her life and had taken to complaining loudly. Really, Andrew felt like he couldn’t be blamed for losing his shit, just a little.

“Can the two of you just sit down and shut up?” And, okay, maybe that wasn’t the right thing to do, judging by Olivia’s wobbly lip. “Oh fuck, no, okay don’t cry-”

“I just wanted you to see the clouds, Andrew, why are you being so mean?”

“I-”

“Yeah!” Came Isabella’s reply, “Don’t yell at Olivia. You said we only yell when someone does something bad.”

Andrew couldn’t believe he was losing an argument to a couple of second graders. They were right, though. Andrew had always struggled with apologises, the word  _ sorry  _ still heavy in his mouth after all these years. 

“No, you’re both right. I’m just not a fan of flying.”

At the honesty, the twin’s faces softened. One of the first things Andrew had done after taking them into his care was stress the importance of honesty. No matter what they did, he wouldn’t care, as long they were honest. The least he could do was show them the same in return.

“Are you scared?” Olivia reaches out and gently takes Andrew’s hand. How strange, he thinks, that he is being comforted by such a small child.

“I am.”

Isabella snorts into her hand, clearly trying her best not to laugh. When Andrew gives her a soft smile, she gives in to it, erupting into a fit of giggles. “I’m seven and I’m not scared! But don’t worry, ‘drew, I can teach you how to be brave.”

The rest of the flight goes relatively easily, and they get to Aaron’s with no other speedbumps. Nicky and Erik fawn over the girls while Aaron tries to keep some semblance of order with his own tribe of children. Somehow Andrew ends up alone in the kitchen alongside Katelyn, washing potatoes and handing them to her to peel. Years ago he couldn’t have imagined something like this coming so easily to him, and while he could admit he still wasn’t Katelyn’s biggest fan, they’d made a lot of progress since the knife at throat college incident.

Katelyn was the first to break the comfortable silence that had settled over them, “The girls seem to be doing well.”

“Renee did a pretty good job at raising two well adjusted seven year olds.”

Katelyn rolls her eyes at him, but isn’t deterred. “You’re not doing half bad yourself, y’know. I watched you give Olivia a piggy back ride, before. I’ve never even seen you hug Aaron, so you can imagine my surprise.”

She was right. Physical touch had never been easy for Andrew, and his relationship with Aaron had always been too touch and go to ever progress pass more then the occasional handshake. That had never been the case with the kids, though. Being around them came naturally in ways that still surprised Andrew. Katelyn hadn’t been the only one taken aback by the piggy back request. Maybe he was getting sentimental in his old age.

Katelyn, who had long since grown used to Andrew’s silence, took the fact that she had not yet been threatened with a kitchen appliance as a good sign to keep talking. “I’m just saying you’re a good Dad, Andrew.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing, though.” 

Katelyn seemed surprised by the moment of vulnerability. She was not the only one. 

“And you think Aaron and I do? No one knows what they’re doing Andrew, but as long as they’re safe and laughing then you can’t be doing too bad.”

Andrew turns the tap off, feeling something heavy settling in his chest. “I don’t ever want to be how Tilda was too Aaron.” In full honesty, Andrew hadn’t even been aware that anxiety had been building until he’d voiced it, but now that words had been spoken the thought spread like black tar in his mind. “What if i’m just as bad as Cas?”

Katelyn hummed like she was considering what he was saying. Eventually, she sat down her own potatoes and turned her full attention to her brother in law. “Aaron said the same thing to me when I first got pregnant. Something about the apple not falling too far from the tree. I told him that was a stupid anaology, I mean, look at Nicky, he’s nothing like Luther and he never will be. You’re stupid if you think the same logic doesn’t apply to you.”

If Andrew had to turn away from Katelyn to rub at his blearily eyes, well, she was polite enough to not mention it.

-

It wasn’t long before Andrew was faced with what was probably the worst night of his life since becoming sole carer of the girls; Parent Teacher Interviews. He’d hated them growing up, and he was sure he’d hate them now. He had no interest in sitting around and hearing the same three regurgitated phrases when he already knew they were doing fine at school. Besides, they were  _ kids,  _ as long as they made it to their teens only moderately fucked up Andrew would consider their education a success. He didn’t get along with any of the other parents, either. Not after he’d been called into the school because Olivia had been getting into fights with boys that had been bullying Isabella. Andrew still didn’t think she’d been in the wrong, but perhaps in hindsight calling that woman's son a pussy had been a bad idea. 

Regardless, here he was, still dressed in his suit from the court case he’d closed that afternoon. He was about ready to ask the twins if they wanted to bail, when they reached their art room. 

“I’m so excited for you to meet Mr. Josten, Andrew!” Isabella was all but dragging him by the sleeve into the brightly coloured room. “He teaches art on wednesdays and thursdays and he’s  _ so funny,  _ ‘drew!”

Andrew wasn’t sure he trusted a seven year old’s opinion on what was and wasn’t funny, but when he saw Josten he thought he’d momentarily devolved into a teenager,  _ so pretty  _ being the only real train of thought. No elementary school teacher had the right to have eyes so blue, or a face that nice. Distantely, Andrew registered taking a seat in front of his desk, Isabella throwing herself onto his lap and Olivia sliding into the seat next to him.

“Mr.Minyard-”

“Andrew is fine.”

“Andrew, it’s nice to meet you. The twins call me Mr. Josten in class, but you’re welcome to call me Neil. I’m sure you’re not surprised to hear the girls are a pleasure to have in class.” Neil’s smile was easy, and took up most of his face when he did so. Andrew was not proud of the momentary delay it caused, not used to his brain having to play catch up.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, they’re brats.” From his lap Isabella made a noise of protest, but didn’t comment further.

“Oh so they take after their Father, then?” Neil rose a playful eyebrow, his lips quirking slightly before he shook his head and pulled two different folders out of his desk and sat them out in front of him. “Anyway, I’m supposed to talk to you about how they’re managing in class, but I teach art, as long as they’re expressing themselves I can’t exactly fail them.”

The honesty had taken Andrew off guard, but he welcomed the change of pace. 

“And they’re definitely creative, that’s for sure. Did you know that last week they swapped clothes in the bathrooms and pretended to be each other? I was almost positive I was losing my mind.”

Andrew was aware, the girls had come home boasting about how funny it had been. Andrew was inclined to agree.

“They’re kids.” He shrugged. “Kids with the same face. I’m sure if I went to school with my brother we’d have done the same.”

There was a question in Neil’s eye, but Andrew was sure it wasn’t the one he asked. “Twins run in the family then?”

That was putting it lightly. Not only had he and Renee had twins, but such luck had bestowed his brother too. They’d already had the one kid, their eldest Josh, and decided that it’d maybe be a good idea to have another. Clearly the twinyard gene was excessively strong, because Aaron and Katelyn had walked away from that ultrasound expecting triplets. The look of fear that had accompanied Aaron’s face when he’d told him was one that would spark joy within Andrew for many years to come.

“You could say that.”

Neil did end up discussing the girls actual classwork, after that, but Andrew found he didn’t entirely hate the experience. There was something about Neil Josten that was enticing, like a puzzle Andrew wanted to solve. He couldn’t believe he was absolutely taken by his daughter’s grade two art teacher.

When they left, Neil smiled and waved at him, and Andrew was pretty sure he’d die right there, if he was being frank. 

-

The next time Andrew saw Neil he had been a complete disaster. He’d been held back after his most recent court case hadn’t been in his favour (which, wouldn’t have even happened if his client had been forthcoming for fucks sake, why did they always think they had something to gain from hiding things from him?) and it wasn’t until he got a call at five did he remember it was a school night, and he’d completely forgotten to pick up the kids.

“Fuck, fuck, yes- no, fuck, yeah I’ll be there in twenty.” He’d vaguely registered that it had been Neil on the other side of the line, and that he’d been laughing lightly to himself as Andrew hung up.

His law firm was, in fact, a good forty minute drive away from Macy’s Elementary but traffic hadn’t hit yet, and Andrew was well versed in how many road rules he could break without actually getting in trouble. In the end he made it to the school in fifteen minutes, double parking before  _ calmly  _ walking inside the school. 

He’d expected to see some degree of tears from the twins, he’d been worried they’d assumed Andrew had left them behind (a feeling he was much too accustomed to) but that was the furthest thing from the case when he found them sitting in Neil’s art room. Isabella and Olivia slapping wet paint covered hands onto a large sheet of paper looking absolutely delighted with themselves. Neil saw him before the girls did and stood to greet him at the door. Andrew refused to let himself think about how toned Neil’s biceps were when folded them across his chest, or the way he smiled loosely at him from where he leant against the door frame.

“Don’t feel too bad about being late,” Neil spoke in a hushed tone so that the girls wouldn’t over hear him. “It happens to every parent sooner or later. Besides, they’ve been just fine waiting for you. They’re a little messy but.” Neil shrugs like it can’t be helped. Judging by the paint splatters littering his own face and hair that was true.

“You seem well versed in mess.”

“Happens when you’re painting with seven year olds all day. Isabella is a fan of throwing paint, by the way.”

Andrew’s lip absolutely did not quirk up at that. “She is an agent of chaos, yes.”

Isabella perked up at the mention of her name and craned her neck back to see who had spoken. Her face lit up almost instantly at the sight of Andrew, giving Olivia a quick shove (effectively smearing green paint across her shirt) to let her know he’d arrived and then they were both tripping over themselves to get to him. There was a brief moment between the girls seeing him and the subsequent following hug where Andrew mourned his suit, which was now covered in paint, but he could always buy another, he supposed. 

Pulling back from the hug, Olivia flashed a wide, toothy grin. “Andrew, come look at what Olivia and I painted!”

Andrew allowed himself to be pulled over the large spread of paper her and Isabella had been using, Neil following behind. The parchment was streaky with colour, clearly the work of a child, but it was still easy to make out the house, sun, and four stick figures of varying sizes.

“It’s our family.” Olivia announced, pointing at each of the figures they’d painted. “That’s Bella and me, and you holding our hands.” 

“And that’s mummy, up in heaven.” Isabella added, pointing at the figure that was floating ominously in the sky. “She’s sending us all of her love so we can be happy.” 

Andrew tensed at the mention of Renee, waiting for the uncomfortable questions and statements that usually followed. “Oh so you’re a widow, that’s so sad.” or “Are you thinking of remarrying? It’s important little girls to have a mother in their life.” But if Neil thought any of those things he kept them to himself, instead busying himself with moving the painting to a drying rack. 

“I’ll send it home with the girls tomorrow.”

Andrew nodded, ready to get the twins home for the night. It was getting late, and was starting to feel the exhaustion of the day pulling at him from all sides.

“How do you two feel about McDonald’s for dinner tonight?” Admittedly, Andrew could probably cook more frequently, but he’d never excelled in the kitchen and he’d rarely had the time to learn. Judging by the pull of Olivia’s face, maybe he had exceeded the reasonable amount of take out per week quota. 

“Wendy’s?”

“We had that last night.” Was Olivia’s annoyed reply.

“Okay, what about burger king or-”

“I know it’s unprofessional but these girls are such great artists I can’t stand here and listen to you describe how you’re submitting them to malnourishment, so if you’re not opposed to the idea, I’d be more than happy to come over and cook the three of you a meal.” Neil really had to stop leaning against varying surfaces, it was making it hard for Andrew’s brain to keep up with his mouth.

“Only if you’re not as messy in the kitchen as you are in a classroom.”

-

Andrew was not accustomed to feeling this...relaxed. There was something placating about sitting at his kitchen island, nursing a glass of whiskey while he watched Neil move around his kitchen as if it was something he did every day. He was still dressed in the loose sweater and slacks he’d worn to class that day, but the sleeves had been rucked up to expose tan skin and he’d also tied back his ginger curls in order to keep them out of his face while he cooked. He moved around the kitchen with ease, pausing only to ask where things were kept before going back to the task, humming slightly to himself. Andrew pressed two fingers two his pulse point, annoyed to find he was affected by the loose fly aways framing Neil’s face. 

“So do you cook for all kids with dead mums in your class or are my girls a exception?”

Neil made a face at him, laying out lasagne sheets into a deep dish Andrew hadn’t even been aware he had. “No, I only cook for students whose father’s ask if they want to eat ‘Boot kabab.’”

Andrew rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his whisky. “Just because they make them out the boot of their car doesn’t mean they’re not an established and respectable business.” 

“It means exactly that, actually. I didn’t realise the twins liked their kebabs with a side of disease and possible drug addiction-here, pass me that.” Neil gestured to the breadcrumbs beside Andrew, who in turn did his best to not think about how Neil’s touch lingered when he handed it over. Their easy back and forth continued until Neil was finished with meal prep, the lasagne in the oven.

“Should be ready in an hour or so, the girls going to be okay with such a later dinner?” 

“I’m sure they’re fine, but feel free to ask them yourself if you’re concerned.” 

Andrew wouldn’t say he was surprised, but he was thrown off momentarily when Neil did do just that. He watched him disappear into Olivia’s bedroom where the girls were playing. He did his best not to eavesdrop but when Neil didn’t immediately return he ventured down the hallway to see what the hold up was. He had not expected to see Neil laying on his side on the floor beside Olivia and Isabella, two dolls of his own in either hand. 

“So how’d they rope you into this?”

Neil looked up at him sheepishly, caught in the act. “Isabella said the castle was under siege, and that the evil King needed to be beheaded.” He held up the two dolls in either hand, as if this helped explain anything. “But that’s no way to stage a coup, so now we’re calling in reinforcements.”

“And those would be?”

“You, ‘drew!” Olivia announced, bouncing on her knees and holding up a ratty looking Bratz doll that was missing the majority of her hair. “You get Commander O’Riley. This is personal for her, since the Queen cut off all her hair during the last war.”

He was going to have to remember to ask Neil how exactly he knew the correct way to stage a coup, but for now he just took Commander O’Riley without further comment and sat down cross legged between the girls and let them instruct him on what to do. 

Turns out playing dolls with two seven year old girls was absolutely brutal, Olivia did not hold back at all once they’d reached the evil queen, ripping the dolls head off with one hard tug. Andrew was mostly amused by the theatrics, but any further development in their game was put on hold when the timer on Neil’s phone went off, letting them know dinner was ready. 

Andrew took the liberty of herding the girls to the dinner table while Neil got busy serving everything. Andrew had never bothered with a dining room table, and so the four of them migrated to the lounge room, the girls on the floor and Neil and Andrew up on the couch, to eat their meal. Normally Andrew would just let the girl’s pick a movie, but he figured the least he could do was let Neil pick what went on.

“Well, there’s an Exy game on tonight-”

“Absolutely not, I’m not watching Exy in my own home.”

Down from their place on the floor the girls giggled, Andrew was sure even Neil’s mouth quirked upwards. 

“What’s wrong with Exy?”

“Andrew says it’s a ‘stupid game played by stupid people’,” Isabella said around a mouthful of lasagna. “But mum always said it was because he’d played enough of it in college.”

Neil raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh, we have a former jock in our midst? Now it all makes sense.”

Andrew shoved Neil with his foot from where he sat on the opposite end of the couch before flicking on the TV. In the end, they ended up watching the game, much to Neil’s delight. Andrew was surprised to find out how much the girls knew about the sport, and furthermore, how much they seemed to enjoy it. 

Neil hung around while Andrew got the girl’s ready for bed, and once they were both tucked in for the night they were both left standing awkwardly by the kitchen island. Andrew didn’t really want Neil to leave, but there was no way to vocalise that. He probably  _ shouldn’t _ , either, considering Neil was teaching his daughters. 

“What position did you play in college?” Neil asked, breaking the silence, crossing his arms and leaning against the kitchen island. 

“Goalie.” Andrew supplied, and then, feeling generous, “Same position as their mum.” 

“I’m assuming that’s where the two of you met?” Andrew watched as curl escaped it’s elastic band and pressed against Neil’s forehead. Was that not annoying him?

“Yeah, the only person on the team I gave a shit about.” Briefly, Andrew considered the court ordered drugs, the manic high the drugs provided, the foggy day dream they made him live in. “She was the only person I  _ could  _ give a shit about. She was my best friend, I guess.”

Neil’s face scrunched up as he processed that, causing more hair to come loose. Andrew took an unconscious step forward, seriously, Neil needed to invest in a headband or  _ something.  _ Andrew’s hand twisted by his side.

“So you and her weren’t...She was your best friend?”

“I’m gay, if that’s what you’re asking, Josten.” Andrew waved off the following question. “Renee needed a favour, and it’s not a difficult task to jerk off. Even if the supplied material is distastefully heterosexual.”

Neil made an  _ ah _ face, and  _ god damnit,  _ was he  _ really  _ blowing the hair out of his face? Was he a child, incapable of simply retying it? Before Andrew was aware of what he was doing, his hand was reaching out and tucking the offending hair behind Neil’s ear. The flush that spread across Neil’s face was immediate, but he did nothing to distance himself from Andrew.

“Uh.”

“Get a fucking hair cut, or learn how to tie it tighter.” Andrew bit out, voice all bark as he stepped back, crossing his arms. 

A half smile pulled at Neil’s mouth as he retired his hair. “There, just for you. That better?”

Andrew felt the tips of ears turn pink at Neil’s teasing tone, and he turned his head away from Neil’s piercing blue gaze so he couldn’t see and grunted out a reply. 

Inevitably when Neil had to leave it was with a two finger salute and instruction to text the number he’d left on the fridge the next time he felt compelled to buy the girls anymore boot related foods. Andrew promised he would.

-

Andrew did end up texting that number, Neil’s number, not even a full week later when he’d managed to burn that night's dinner. Since then, Neil had become a frequent structure in the Walker-Minyard household, often coming over to cook meals or further the development of Olivia and Isabella’s doll hierarchy. Occasionally, when it got too late, Neil would even stay the night, wrapped up on the couch in spare blankets. Andrew had been itching to invite him into his own bed, but that would be crossing a line there would be no coming back from.

They’d also started trading truths, after that last night. Neil had offered up his reasoning for becoming a teacher (“I never really got to have a normal childhood. My Mum, she did her best, but...I like ensuring these kids get to have what I didn’t.”) in return for the truths Andrew had given him about Renee. Andrew tried to maintain a professional relationship between them, he really did, but any air of that was lost when he invited the art teacher to come along with them to the carnival that had rolled into town. 

“The girls asked.”

“Right.”

“It’ll be easier to keep an eye on them, with the two of us.”

“Uh huh.”

“And Olivia is a little demon, always wondering off-”

“Andrew, I already said yes. Calm down.”

And so the four of them had gone together, Neil dressed in his usual attire of paint splattered sweaters, but he’d swapped his work slacks out for a pair of faded jeans. The day had gone well, the weather staying well and the crowd wasn’t too bad, for the most part. Andrew and Neil followed the girls through the fun house (which was, in fact, very fun for Andrew when Neil got stuck in one of the tunnels and Andrew got to stare at his ass for the twenty minutes it took for him to wiggle out), and Andrew held Isabella up on his shoulders while she threw ping pong balls into what was, frankly, a terrifying open mouth porcelain clown. The little monster she was, Isabella managed to win herself a stuffed dragon Andrew was positive was taller then he was, and deigned Neil’s duty to carry around for the remainder of their stay.

Eventually, they get to the last age appropriate attraction; pony rides. Olivia is all but begging for a go, and when they agree on it being their last ‘ride’ Andrew sends them off to line up and be assigned a pony each. 

“They’re good kids, y’know. You’ve done a really good job.” Neil said, from where he was leaning against the chain link enclosure, watching Olivia be lifted onto a grey pony. “It’s coming up a year, isn’t it? Them moving in with you.”

A year since Renee had died, too. Andrew was still having a hard time coming to terms with that. Since Isabella’s breakdown, Andrew had taken to making a trip up to Renee’s grave with the girls every month, doing his best to tell them stories about her, but he always felt so ill equipped. He didn’t feel like he was doing a good job, but his frame of reference for good parenting was slim to none. 

Andrew turned to face Neil, he hadn’t realised how close they were standing together. “I doubt they’d have made it this long without you and all your home cooked meals.”

Neil scoffed, but smiled anyway.

“I’m serious. It’s helped, having you around. And the girls really like you. Your’re…”  _ A pipedream, a hallucination, nothing.  _ It didn’t matter that he’d trailed off, or that the sentence had gotten away from him because Neil was leaning in closer to him, until his mouth was only a breath away from Andrew’s own. “Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

As far as kisses go, it wasn’t anything incredibly special. A firm press of lips against one another, brief and simple, but it made Andrew’s head spin all the same. He was getting ready to lean in for a second one when he heard Isabella shriek. Andrew’s neck shoot to the direction of the noise, finding Olivia on the floor, looking like she couldn’t breathe and Isabella crying next to her. Andrew had never moved faster in his life, jumping over the fence to get to Olivia faster.

He didn’t know if he should touch her or not, her wheezing getting tighter as she tried to sit up-ultimately he decided on crouching beside her, trying to work out what was wrong. Absently he noticed Neil on the phone jogging over to them. 

“What the fuck do I do?” Andrew asked as soon as Neil was in earshot, who also dropped down beside him. 

“She’s having an asthma attack, probably from all the dust in the pen. I called an ambulance.” 

“Okay, well she can’t fucking breathe  _ now.” _

Neil shot him a look and fumbled with his pockets for a second before pulling out an inhaler and helping it into Olivia’s mouth. After a few deep breaths her face was looking considerably less blue. Isabella had stopped crying and started patting her sisters blonde hair gently, telling her she was going to be okay.

“Why didn’t she have an inhaler on her?” Neil kept a steady hand on Olivia’s back, working on helping her into a standing position-Andrew could hear the paramedics not too far off.

“Why don’t I-I didn’t  _ know _ she was asthmatic! It’s not like Renee was here to tell me! Why do  _ you  _ have one?”

“Because I’m asthmatic dipshit.”

The paramedics had reached them by now, ushering them briefly to the side so they could check Olivia’s vitals. Neil picked up Isabella and lifted her onto his hip so they could move out of the way while Andrew was asked questions about his daughters’ wellbeing. 

They load Olivia up in the ambulance, and Andrew hands over his car and house keys over to Neil, instructing him to take Isabella home while he rides with Olivia. He’s caught off guard with how much he trusts Neil, that he’s not worried about leaving Isabella in his care. They’re well on their way to the hospital when Olivia pulls down the oxygen mask they have strapped over her face, much to both Andrew and the paramedic’s chagrin. 

“You owe, like, five dollars in the swear jar ‘drew.”

The paramedics laugh, and Andrew just rolls his eyes and ruffles her hair, pulling the mask back up and over her face. She could joke all she wanted, but the fear that had shot through Andrew still lingered. He’d never felt so panicked in his life. He dug his fingers into his lap in a desperate attempt to get them to stop shaking. There was no point dwelling on a  _ what if,  _ because Olivia was fine now and Andrew was going to make sure there was always an inhaler around the house but he still couldn’t shake that  _ feeling.  _ He’d spent so much of his life doing very little of that, and now between the girls and Neil, well. He was making up for lost time, wasn’t he?

Later, when they were home safe and sound, the girls both sleeping soundly, Andrew curled up on the couch next to Neil. They sat in silence for a long time, nursing their respective mugs of coffee, but it was Neil who spoke first.

“My dad is the reason why I carry the inhaler. He wasn’t- _ Isn’t  _ a good guy. Turns out one too many blows to the rib cage with steel cap boots really fucks with your lungs.” Neil took a sip of his drink, as if steeling himself to continue. “My mum found me all but choking on my own blood one day and decided enough was enough. Stole half a million from him-” He paused when Andrew all but choked on his drink at the statement.

Neil offered a sheepish grin in return. “Mafia, it was blood money, so you can imagine how happy he was about that. Anyway, she took the money and ran with me. We moved around for years until he finally caught up with her. I buried her on a beach and every day I worry he’s going to find me next, but I’ve been trying to live my life in spite of that fact.”

Andrew hummed, letting that sit in. Neil already knew about Andrew’s time in foster care, about Drake and Cas and Tilda and everyone in between, but this felt like more than a trading of truths. This felt like a confession. 

“So he’s looking for you?”

Neil shrugged. “I’ve still got a good portion of his money, and he’s never liked losing. But it’s been years, I don’t know if he’s given up or if he’s just stupid.”

“The girls, are they safe with you here? Because Neil it doesn’t matter what I want,” Andrew sat his mug down on the floor, turning so his full body faced Neil, resting a hand on his knee. “This is nothing,  _ nothing  _ if it puts them in danger. It would kill me, I think, if something happened to them.”

Neil was silent for a long time before he reached out, pausing just short of Andrew’s face, continuing only when the blonde nodded, and brought their faces close enough so they were eye to eye.

“I promise you they are safe.” Andrew was sure no one had ever spoken with as much earnest as Neil had just then. 

In the end, Andrew isn’t entirely sure who closes the small distance first, too caught up in everything that is Neil Josten, but he does know it’s not until the early AM that Neil takes his leave, mouth kiss bitten and red. Andrew is, for once, grateful for his eidetic memory. He never wanted to forget how Neil had felt underneath him on that couch.

-

Olivia and Isabella had been living with Andrew for over a year now, and it was coming up close on their eighth birthday. Despite having really gotten to know the girls over the past fifteen months, he was at a loss on what to get them to help celebrate. Neil had suggested a cat, and, well, that really wasn’t a bad idea, actually, and was how he ended up at the local shelter with two vibrating eight year olds. The shelter attendant had been a great help with narrowing down their choices, leaving them alone with cats that did well with others and children. 

Andrew, for all his planning, had not considered the girls not agreeing on a cat, and so they both stood before him cuddling a cat each to their chests. Olivia had become overly attached to a tortoiseshell and Isabella didn’t seem to be budging on her love for the long haired tuxedo cat she had trapped between her arms. He spared a glance at the attendant, who just shrugged in return.

“If it helps, the two of them are already bonded, so they’ll get along great in the house.”

This did not, in fact, help. It did, however, awaken a newer determination in Isabella’s eye. She shifted the cat so it was balancing on her shoulder and tugged on Andrew’s shirt sleeve, presenting him with her best puppy dog eyes. “Please? They already love each other, they’ll feel right at home in our family, dad.”

And, okay. Maybe Andrew’s heart stopped beating for a minute there. Neither of them had called him Dad before, and he’d never pushed for it. Sure, that’s what he was biologically, but he hadn’t been there for the past seven years, so it wasn’t a title he ever felt he had a right to take on. 

Olivia joined her sister at Andrew’s other side. “Yeah, daddy,  _ please?” _

Andrew glanced up at the roof, praying for  _ something,  _ and definitely trying to avoid tearing up. “Fine, you little gremlins. You’re lucky it’s your birthday.”

The two of them squealed in glee, and animatedly discussed cat names while the attendant loaded the two cats into their carriers. Back at home, after everything for the two animals was set up, Olivia announced they had decided on names.

“That one is Sir Fat Cat McCatterson.” Olivia announced, pointing a stumpy finger at the tortishell cat. 

“And this guy,” Isabella pulled the long haired cat into her lap, where it lolled around lazily. “Is King Fluffykins.”

Andrew didn’t have the heart to tell them that both cats were girls. “How about we call them King and Sir for short, huh? Very creative names though, good job.”

And later, when he tucked the girl’s into bed for the night and the both of them tacked on Dad to the end of their goodnights with bright smiles, well, Andrew was only human. He’d have to remember to tell Renee at their next visit.

-

Andrew is called into work unexpectedly, and usually he’s not one to shy away from telling his firm to fuck off, but the case he’d been working on did actually carry some importance to him. He’d called and asked Neil if he could watch the girls, and he’d happily agreed, and the girls had been more than happy to spend time with him. 

Everything was fine, everything was  _ normal  _ until he’d returned to Neil’s apartment to pick up the girls, finding the door broken open, furniture thrown around the house, and Neil, Olivia, and Isabella nowhere to be found. All that was left was a blue post it note stuck against the fridge that read; “Thanks for the toys, the Butcher.” It’s a blind rage that follows after that. Andrew doesn’t remember getting back in his car, doesn’t remember driving to the police station, but comes too when someone touches him-someone, no, multiple people, are trying to pull him off from where he’s latched onto an officers’ uniform, snarling in his face.

Fucking  _ pigs,  _ they where useless, clearly, If Andrew had lost his temper so violently. All they did was force him to sit down, and how could he sit still  _ god damn it  _ his  _ kids  _ were missing,  _ Neil  _ was missing. His psychotic father had caught up to him and was doing god knows what, and all these officers wanted to do was ask him useless questions as if Neil’s father hadn’t spelt it out for them with his stupid note.

He was about ready to get out there and find them himself when a very familiar crying could be heard from the station doors. Isabella shed enough tears that Andrew would be able to recognise the sound anywhere. No amount of grabbing hands could stop Andrew from bolting from his seat and towards the noise. There, at the door where Isabella and Olivia, eyes streaky with tears but otherwise looking fine, and behind them stood Neil. Neil who was covered in blood, and had a grim look about him. The blood attracted the attention of the surrounding officers, and Neil was hauled off for questioning, refusing to look Andrew in the eye. He wanted to wait for him, make sure he was okay, but Olivia and Isabella were still sobbing beside him, and they took precedent. 

The girls told him they weren’t sure what had happened, that one minute they’d been playing dolls with Neil, and the next a group of terrifying men had kicked down Neil’s door. They’d been grabbed, much like Neil, but had been left inside the boot of a car for what felt like hours. It wasn’t until Neil had found them, covered in blood had they been allowed out, and from there Neil had ushered them into a car and not stopped driving until he’d found Andrew. And now all they wanted to know was that Neil was okay too.

In the end, Neil had kept them safe.

It took a very long time to get them settled enough to sleep, the two of them curled around one another in Olivia’s bed, but sleep they did. It wasn’t long after that there was a soft knock at the door, a cleaned up but still worse for wear Neil behind it. He’d changed clothes, and wrapped in bandages that covered the majority of his arms and half his face. He looked like he’d seen hell. 

He also looked like he was ready to explain himself there on Andrew’s front porch, and he wasn’t about to have that. Silently he grabbed Neil’s arm, pulling him inside and making sure the door was locked behind him, and led him into Andrew’s bedroom where he sat him on the bed.

“You told me they would be safe.” Andrew did his best to keep his tone even, and when Neil wouldn’t meet his eye he grabbed at his face, careful to avoid the bandaging, and forced his blue eyes to meet his hazel ones.

“I know, I did. I’m sorry.” Andrew had never heard Neil sound so defeated before.

“Shut up, you’re a fucking idiot, y’know that?” Andrew dropped Neil’s face when he was confident he wouldn’t look away again, and instead let their foreheads press together.

“Where are the girls?”

“They’re asleep in Olivia’s room, but you’re hauling ass to talk to them first thing in the morning, they were worried about you.”  _ I was worried about you,  _ goes unsaid but Andrew knows Neil is well aware. When Neil inhales, deep and shaky, they’re close enough that Andrew can feel the eventual exhale against his face.

“They really are safe now. He’s dead. I...I took care of it.”

Without really thinking about it Andrew pulled Neil’s head into the crook of his neck, pressing a kiss into his hair. “Good. I’m never letting anyone take you or the girls again.”

“You're not mad?”

“I’m fucking furious, but its not like you asked to get kidnaped, did you? No. Now shut up and come to bed.”

“That’s a dollar in the swear jar, dad.” 

Isabella and Olivia had apparently woken up and now stood in Andrew’s doorway, each cradling a cat in their arms. Andrew rolled his eyes and gestured for them to get into bed with him and Neil. After a lot of shifting Andrew managed to get himself wrapped around Neil, his back to the wall, the girls starfished on the other side of the bed and King and Sir curled up at the end of the bed.

Perhaps they had a shot at being okay.

-

Andrew was visiting Renee alone. He’d already made his monthly trip with the girls, but there were some things he needed to say where eager ears couldn’t hear-nine year olds had a terrible habit of repeating things they heard. For a long time he simply sat in silence in front of Renee’s grave, tapping his hand against his thigh. She’d been gone for almost three years now, but Andrew didn’t think he’d ever get used to not hearing her reply.

“The girls are getting big. I’m almost worried they’ll overtake me, Neil said we should try and stunt their growth. I’m almost inclined to agree.” He drug his thumb into a rip at the knee of his jeans, effectively making it bigger. “I want to say thanks. Not for dying, because that was pretty fucking stupid of you, but for trusting the girls to me. I don’t know why you ever thought I’d be fit to raise the brats, but you were right. So thanks, Renee, for giving me a chance at a family.”

Andrew was not a religious man, but if pressed he would admit that the warmth of the sun that accompanied the following silence felt the same way Renee’s smile always looked.


End file.
